


You Pick Up All My Broken Pieces (And Make Me Whole)

by JuliaRose12



Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Matteusz is the best boyfriend, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon Fix-It, ish, post the lost, they are both broken but they need each other and that's what this fic is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 04:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11176908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuliaRose12/pseuds/JuliaRose12
Summary: Charlie falls apart immediately after the events of The Lost, and Matteusz keeps him close and tries to piece him back together.





	You Pick Up All My Broken Pieces (And Make Me Whole)

**Author's Note:**

> I've spent the past few days falling in love with Class and everyone in it, so it only seemed right to try to fix the brokenness that we were left with. Because even through everything, I think that Charlie and Matteusz love each other too much to not work things out. Feedback would be much appreciated!!

Walking back to Charlie’s flat (their flat? Matteusz doesn't know anymore) is a blur. After the Shadow Kin had been destroyed, and April’s body was limp in Ram’s arms, Charlie had screamed and sobbed himself into a state of numbness, still lying on the gymnasium floor, and everyone else had just faded into the background. Quill had left with Ram and April (was it even April anymore? Matteusz didn’t know that either), and Tanya had gone to find her brothers. Matteusz didn't blame them. He would have gone too, if the most important person in his life had been anywhere else but curled up in a broken heap four feet away from him. Everyone was gone by the time Charlie had simply stopped crying and began staring blankly into the empty space surrounding them, not even reacting to Matteusz’s arm wrapping protectively around his shoulders. That was the scariest part, Matteusz had thought. The lack of a reaction, the lack of any semblance of the boy he loved in Charlie's unfocused eyes.

“Charlie?” Matteusz had whispered into the emptiness. “Charlie, I'm going to take you home now.”

Charlie hadn't even nodded, but there was nothing else Matteusz could think to do other than to pull Charlie up and attempt to walk the two of them home.

The walk was a blur simply because of the sheer number of thoughts running through Matteusz’s head, and the fact that Charlie was just barely managing to stay upright, leaning against Matteusz every few steps but still not speaking. Matteusz hadn't trusted himself to speak without breaking, so he hadn't, not until they reached the front door and he fumbled for the spare key he still kept in his pocket.

He opens the door slowly, keeping Charlie close and closing it gently behind him. Quill, Matteusz assumes, isn't here, which is surprising to him only because of the fact that before today, she hadn’t seemed to truly care about any of them. Even through the panic and the chaos that had been exploding around them at Coal Hill, he had noticed a change in her, and the way that she had fought beside Tanya makes him wonder what it is that has changed. Questioning Quill’s morality needs to wait though, he decides, and he shifts his attention back to Charlie.

“We’re home,” he searches Charlie's eyes for any sign of recognition, but finds none, and tries to swallow down the lump forming in the back of his throat. “Charlie, are you hearing me?”

Nothing.

“Okay,” Matteusz manages. “Okay. I'm going to take you upstairs now.”

He manages to maneuver his arms under Charlie’s legs and pick him up, and Charlie goes limp as soon as his feet are off the ground. His cheek rests against Matteusz’s chest, and for a moment, Matteusz is afraid that he'll drop him. That his arms, still shaking and unsteady, won't be able to hold onto this empty shell of a broken prince. He steels himself and starts for the stairs, grateful that their room is the first one down the hall, and holds Charlie steady against him as the stairs creak under his feet.

Matteusz nearly breaks for the upteenth time that day when he enters their room and sees their bed. The bed in which he told Charlie he loved him for the first time, where he slept after being torn away from his own, where he had awoken morning after morning with Charlie's bare limbs crossed over his and Charlie's sleep-rustled hair tickling his nose.

He swallows hard, carrying Charlie closer and laying him down on his side of the bed. Charlie's eyes still stare unfocused and empty, but Matteusz swears he notices a shudder when their contact is broken for the first time since they were back at Coal Hill.

“You need to sleep,” Matteusz busies himself with gently untying and removing Charlie's shoes and then his socks, forcing him out of his singed jeans and torn jacket and covering him with the blanket draped over the desk chair. “Okay, Charlie? Can you close your eyes for me?”

He does. His eyelashes flutter up and down and then his eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling steadily, and Matteusz nearly cries. He wishes he knew more about Rhodian grief, about whether this is some kind of trance, or just Charlie’s natural reaction to the trauma that they've all experienced, but he holds onto the fact that Charlie is asleep now. That he's asleep in their bed and that he's alive.

He's asleep, and alive, and Matteusz can finally break. He all but stumbles into the bathroom, tears forcing their way out before he even gets there, and he collapses against the tiles with an ungraceful thud. He had thought he was going to watch Charlie die, right there in front of him, and that alone forces a choked-off sob out of him. Everything else comes in bursts. The fact that Charlie had killed an entire race, and lost his own, in a single moment. That April’s fate is still unknown to him. That Tanya and her brothers are orphans, now, and that Ram had to watch two more people he loved die in one day. The Shadow Kin are dead, an entire race, and Matteusz feels like he should be thinking about the genocide rather than the broken boy who committed it, but he can't, not yet. Charlie remains at the forefront of his mind, and he knows now that no matter what, he can never stop loving him, never stop the feelings that have found a home in his chest every time Charlie so much as looks at him.

He lets himself cry until no more tears come, until his back and legs ache from his curled position on the floor and the sunset casts shadows over the linoleum.

He pushes himself up, stripping off his jeans and t-shirt mechanically and splashing cold water on his swollen face before making his way back to the bed. Charlie is still asleep, but he doesn't look peaceful, trembling every few seconds and grimacing in a way that makes Matteusz’s stomach clench.

“I'm here, Charlie,” he says as he walks around to his side of the bed and lies down facing the other boy. “I'm right here, with you.”

His hand finds the side of Charlie's face, and he strokes his thumb over the tear tracks that mark his reddened cheeks. He keeps his hand there as he closes his eyes, and allows the exhaustion of the day to pull him into a fitful attempt at sleep.

\------------

Matteusz awakens mere hours later, taking in the blinking “3:37 AM” displayed on the nightstand clock and momentarily forgetting about everything that had happened in the past few hours. He rolls over on his side, and abruptly registers the coldness of the bed beside him with the hand that had been resting on Charlie’s cheek.

The bed is empty, and cold, and Matteusz suddenly feels like he’s going to be sick.

He forces himself up with shaking arms and tries to clamp down the nausea churning in his stomach, opening his mouth to call Charlie’s name until he sees the figure standing stoic and still on the balcony. He nearly trips over his own feet in a hurried attempt to cross the room and reach him, his only thoughts focused on getting Charlie back inside, back to the safety of their bedroom.

He moves slowly once he’s past the sliding doors, and he can’t tell if he feels more or less sick when he finally places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie is gripping the railing of the balcony so tightly that his knuckles are white even in the darkness of the night, and his cheeks are wet, glistening with silent tears that won’t stop.

“Matteusz,” he finally opens his mouth to speak, and Matteusz’s legs nearly give out from pure relief. “Tell me it was all a dream.”

“No,” he answers, and he watches the way Charlie squeezes his eyes shut, feels the shudder that wracks his body. “No, it was not a dream.”

Charlie’s stillness, his remaining numbness and seeming paralysis dissolves, and he gasps loudly enough for it to echo around the tiny space. He steps backwards until he hits the door, dropping down to the floor and starting to sob, tiny and desperate gasps forcing their way out through bursts of tears.

“They’re all gone,” he fists his hands in his hair and curls in on himself, pressing his elbows into his knees and dropping his head between his arms. “Two entire species, all gone. I thought I was saving them, I thought-”

“Charlie,” Matteusz kneels beside him, reaching out to gently grab his arm. This has to be the start of another panic attack, he thinks, a panic attack combined with grief and feelings that are so strong and awful that it makes Matteusz grimace just to imagine them. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath, please.”

Charlie’s head shoots up and he stares at Matteusz as if he hadn’t even known he was there, and then he’s scrambling further back against the wall, away from Matteusz, his now-wild eyes filling with fear.

“You’re still here, you need to leave,” he gasps. “I could hurt you, you’re not safe with me-”

“I don’t care,” Matteusz stops him, and Charlie swipes at the tears at the corners of his eyes, Matteusz finding himself doing the same. “I would not care, if I was not safe here. With you. I would still stay.”

“Why are you still here,” Charlie’s voice cracks as he struggles to keep it steady. “After everything I’ve done, how can you even stand to look at me?”

“I almost ran,” Matteusz finds himself saying, because if anything, Charlie deserves the truth. “After everything happened. I was afraid. I do not know of what.” He looks down, eternally grateful that Charlie doesn’t pull away when he lays his hand over his. “You, maybe. The Shadow Kin.”

“So why didn’t you?” Charlie mumbles.

“I almost did, but I looked at you, and I could not.”

Charlie opens his mouth slowly, but no words come, and he begins to shake his head, his shoulders trembling. “I’m a monster, you have to see-”

“I made you a promise,” Matteusz interrupts. “Do you not remember? I promised to love you. What you did- I cannot be okay with it. But it is not all that you are.”

He had thought that he had cried himself out in the bathroom, while Charlie was asleep, but more tears spring forward as he speaks, and he forces himself to continue. “We will talk about what happened when it is not so new. But I will promise you again, right now, that I love you. And that I do not have intentions of stopping.”

Charlie’s eyes find Matteusz’s, and even through the fear and pain swirling within them, there’s the smallest glint of hope, and he leans forward, Matteusz meeting him halfway.

“Will you let me hold you now?” Matteusz brushes Charlie’s hair away from his eyes, and Charlie nods shakily, falling against the taller boy’s chest and fisting his hands in his shirt. They both cry, Charlie louder, with more hitched breaths and tears soaking the front of Matteusz’s shirt, and Matteusz more silently, his arms steadily rubbing Charlie’s back in some kind of attempt to hold him together.

“We should go back inside, now,” Matteusz finally breaks the tear-soaked silence after what feels like an eternity, and Charlie nods, letting Matteusz pull him up and wrap an arm around his waist, guiding him back to their bed.

Charlie unbuttons his shirt slowly, and takes one of Matteusz’s t-shirts from his outstretched hand. It’s too big on him and it hangs off his shoulders, and he doesn’t look like a prince. Not a prince anymore, but a boy, with tear-stained cheeks and hollow eyes and disheveled hair. He’s still beautiful, Matteusz thinks as he guides him to their bed, again lying him down slowly and then taking his place on the other side.

“Matteusz,” Charlie says softly, like he isn’t worthy of saying the name, and Matteusz pulls him against his chest again, tucking Charlie’s face into the space between his collarbones. “How will we handle tomorrow?”

“We will handle tomorrow together,” Matteusz says into Charlie’s hair. “And that is how we will handle the next day, and the day after that. One at a time.”

“Okay,” Charlie whispers, “thank you.” It doesn’t seem possible, but his voice grows even softer. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Charlie,” Matteusz breathes out and presses a soft kiss to Charlie's forehead. “Now get some sleep.”

\------------

The sun rises in the morning, and Charlie cries.

The sun rises eight days later, and Charlie laughs as they eat breakfast. It’s the most beautiful sound Matteusz has ever heard.

The sun rises a month later, casting a warm glow over their bed, over the soft kiss that Matteusz wakes Charlie with. The sun rises, and they’re okay.


End file.
